[center][url=https://biblehub.com/matthew/6-4.htm][img]https://i.imgur.com/ze7epWJ.png[/img][/url] [h1][color=slateblue]The Riddle of Lindenholdt - Enemy Mine[/color][/h1][/center] [hr] [hr] [color=757163]Xiuyang investigates the Grunewalds' Haureenium mine, entering alone into a magic-suppressing zone. After reporting her findings to Marceline, she narrowly escapes capture by Revidians and a dark mage. Then, she goes to retrieve the bodies of the two missing men, one of which is in the possession of a strange woman. They try to escape Xiuyang, but she begins to give chase.[/color] [hider=Archives][color=598527]"Get lost in the [i]sauce[/i] instead.... tonight."[/color] [color=757163]Marceline's would-be-witty response lost steam quickly, but she waved goodbye and good luck with a promise to check in, which reminded her that she needed to check in on the crypt group. After that, Xiuyang was - for the first time in quite a while - on her own. The clouds parted to reveal a stark and white but welcomely warm sun. Her path took her across the open farm fields to the east of the town, their haystacks rising, dull and flaxen gold, glistening with melted snow in the noontime light. Stretching out her senses, she could feel the edge of the forest approaching just as well as she could see it, with its changes in kinetic, chemical, and thermal energy compared to the fields. The narrow track that she was following became overgrown, but it was still passable and, in the distance, as it rose, the ground became rocky and conductive. First, however, lay a stretch of swampy ground, bristling with dead trees, scraggly bushes and vines, and murky half-frozen water. Xiuyang took deep, measured breaths and tilted her head up to feel the sun on her face. The relative silence of the open fields compared to the busy market, the clean and unremarkable air—how long had it been since she'd taken a moment to appreciate these things? They felt increasingly luxurious next to her time at the Forge and her always-expanding daily itinerary of tasks and worries. [color=slateblue]"I'm thinking like an old maid,"[/color] she chided herself out loud in Rettanese, an image of a grandma sitting in a chair outdoors doing nothing making its way through her mind. Even the time she spent outside the walls of Ersand'Enise with its hurried crowds of students and familiarly pungent waterways was dedicated to running, but today, she indulged in the luxury of walking. Something within her tried to burden her with the blame for Marci's inability to enjoy something so simple, but she chased the involuntary thought from her mind like a bothersome fly. If she had gone with Marci, and they had succeeded in killing Juulet right then and there, then what? What would have become of her in Halge Larchelon without Juulet there to back her up? Would the Leviathan be stomping nations to dust even now? It was better to trust the gods' plans in these matters, she decided. The terrain turned slightly more treacherous than a well-trodden path, and Xiuyang amused herself by stepping on stones and fallen trees when possible to keep her boots dry. She made no show of concealing her departure from Lindenholdt, as though she were up to no good such that she required it. In truth, a part of her hoped she was being followed—that a single, vulnerable student of Ersand'Enise wandering off by their lonesome would encourage one of many frustratingly hidden players biding their time to finally make a move and expose themselves. Marci and Roslyn would surely scold her if they knew, but she felt at ease. No one could hasten her arrival into the arms of Eshiran, for she was there already and had comfort in them. As a girl, she had always seen the serene depictions of saints in deep reverence, and never seen it in the stone cold and judgmental eyes of any "serious" followers of Quentism alive today. This, surely, was the seemingly unattainable peace reflected to her in the faces of those saints. In her mind's eye, she could almost see herself in the stained glass. She laughed out loud. It was absurdity and it was sacrilegious and it was her truest feeling right now, all at once. [color=slateblue][i]*Only after I nearly died, I see the beauty of life that was always in front of me. Life without death would be maddening.*[/i][/color] So lost in the simple beauty of a pleasant Somnes day and the reflection that came with it was Xiuyang, that she almost didn't notice the enormous energy signature doing its best to conceal itself amid the stumps and reeds. A great old skuggvar was waiting there, crouched and ready to pounce if she were to pass close enough. She could sense it clearly, no:, see it with the eyes of magic. It was at least a century old, with a faint brindle pattern and a damaged left forelimb that had never properly healed. Its eye on that side, as well, was blind, and a familiar blast burn snaked and twisted up that side of its body: a lightning burn. Stealthily, the beast crept forward. The beast crept forward, and the girl hopped to a new foothold, keeping a certain distance. The skuggvar advanced, and the Revidian hopped, as if playing a dangerous game. [color=slateblue]"Someone used you for target practice,"[/color] Xiuyang observed somberly, her voice still soft and contemplative, her eyes quite focused on her feet, as if she hadn't seen her hunter just yet. [color=slateblue]"I wonder if reports of devils in the woods might be true, if a little exaggerated."[/color] As she stood on one foot, she dug out her beanie from a pocket and put it on. [color=slateblue][i]*Ten seconds.*[/i][/color] If a foothold would fail her, if the beast quickened its pace, if any sudden move would agitate it into striking, she would know and have the time to react and change course. Even an injured skuggvar was a foe she'd rather not trifle with. Its burns were indicative of the power of this weapon the locals and Revidians were fighting over, but she would worry about that later. Even after doing so for several days in Yarsoc, Xiuyang would hesitate to call herself an expert on wilderness survival, but she knew exactly two things about predators: don't turn your back, and don't run. She proceeded with her stepping-stone game accordingly, hoping the beast wasn't out for the blood of any human that crossed its path after what had been done to it. It was likely a vain hope, so as she hopped, she slowly drew and used that energy to hop further and quicken her pace slightly, always keeping the beast's current hiding spot in the corner of her eye, but never going so far as to be obvious about the fact that she was onto it. [color=slateblue]"As expected,"[/color] Xiuyang exhaled. Her hands found her hips, but with no pistols attached. She would not get out of this easily as she had in the jungle of Palapar. As adrenaline flowed and time came to a crawl, she took pride in the fact that she, too, had finally become a person with experience, who could tell stories of adventure like the ones she read as a girl. That was only if she could outrun this thing, though, since she wasn't about to do worse to it than it already had done to it and lived. She broke the rules of her hopping game and turned her back to the predator, beginning a series of leaps enhanced by her kinetic boots, drawing with binding from the earth behind her to fuel her next spell. The swampy trail in her wake became less ground and more water with every step, even more so than before, something which was surely still accommodating to the beast at first—for though it sunk deeper into the mire, it had little to contend with between them but some stubborn tree roots and fallen logs. Perhaps its injured forelimb hindered it more in water than on land, but it wasn't by much. Then, with sudden violence, Xiuyang drew in all the heat that she could from the air and the ground, and turned the now very wet patch of swamp between her and the beast into something much more solid and very, very cold. Then, with eyes wide and hands shaking, she turned back and kept fleeing toward the shed she'd spotted. She didn't want to guess how many pounds of muscle an (almost) entire skuggvar added up to, or stick around to see how long the ice could hold it. She panted, her breath freezing as it exited her body. [color=slateblue]"Anyo..."[/color] she stopped asking before she could finish the question. What if she ran into someone who didn't speak Avincian? How did she manage to forget something so basic before volunteering for this? No, before that, was that skuggvar still on her six? Like a frightened house cat, she took one last leap up onto the tied-up wagon and perched there before looking around the area. A timely warning came in from Marceline, in the form of a pinch message. [color=598527][/color] There was a pause. [color=598527][/color] The shed just ahead of Xiuyang, meanwhile, gave off the air of a place of unremarkable storage. It was dilapidated almost to the point of abandonment, and it would be a simple matter to open the basic lock on its door. If it was unoccupied right now, the trampled grass near its entrance made clear that it had at least been used recently. In fact... following the path did not appear to lead to the collapsed mine's entrance, which was overgrown and halfheartedly fenced-off. Then, there was the remnants of the road, barely visible. Those did not appear to have been traveled anytime recently. There was a missing piece here… Xiuyang nearly jumped out of her skin and lost her balance, falling into the wagon. [color=slateblue][i]Hells, Marci.[/i][/color] The girl surely had opinions on the matter, but she had to deal with her current situation first. She could return a message, but it would be slow, like writing in a language one knew but didn't use often. An estimate of two minutes. That meant ninety seconds to stay on the safe side, she decided quickly. Something about this area didn't feel quite right. Xiuyang decided to focus her use of the Gift on sensing her surroundings to expedite her search for objects of interest or hidden passages. Any attempt to purge her scent to slow down a skuggvar would likely be in vain. She couldn't be sure, but Abdel's confidence in their tracking ability always spoke volumes. She'd only do a cursory search of the wagon she'd landed in, to see if she could find a clue as to what it was used to transport—though she did have her suspicions. Of greater interest to her was the shed. Even if its contents did nothing to aid her investigation, perhaps something that could be used as a weapon might be found inside. [color=598527][/color] came the response and, after a moment. [color=598527][/color] Then, it was just Xiuyang, her senses, and a task. She found that the wagon was used to haul haureenium ore and quite a bit of useless rock. The dust and chips within it made that clear. The shed, meanwhile, seemed nondescript at first, but a quick unlock of the door and a peek inside revealed... There was a carpet and.... beneath the carpet... there was a trap door... and beneath the trap door was... a dead zone where she could sense nothing. Now, that was either the work of an incredibly rare scagbiist by coincidence, or else… [color=slateblue]"This better not be another sewer,"[/color] Xiuyang groaned as she set about opening the trap door. It was a matter of simple pragmatism. The entrance of the mine clearly hadn't been visited in a while, and she wasn't dressed for a chase through thick brush in any case. Also, the skuggvar wasn't going to give up easily so long as she remained in its territory—which did seem to include the mine, given its injuries—but there was a chance it might not follow her down where it couldn't sense anything. [color=slateblue][i]Because quite frankly, this is a horrible idea,[/i][/color] her mind concluded for her. [color=slateblue][/color] With Marci's message returned, Xiuyang descended. [color=598527][/color] came the reply. [color=598527][/color] After that, Xiuyang was into the dead zone, and she couldn't [i]hear[/i] anything, at least, that indicated the skuggvar might still be on her tail. The faint hints of light quickly faded, but it wasn't stairs that she found herself going through. Rather, the path was wide and the slope shallow. More than once, she nearly tripped over the tracks that felt as if they had to be there for mining carts. Come to think of it, there had been signs of unloading next to the carpet - they had urged her to check it and now it had led to this. Then, just ahead, she caught a glimmer of glass hanging from a peg on one of the walls. Xiuyang presumed it to be a lantern, but approached with caution nonetheless. Her inability to sense her surroundings and reliance on light made her feel exposed. How quickly she had volunteered to visit a crypt at night alone, but somehow an abandoned mine just had a whole different vibe. Her new sources of strength didn't quite factor into how eerie the place was, much to her chagrin. It was as if each stumble was a little reminder that she was not supposed to be here, and one misstep could lead into a fatal fall. [color=slateblue][i]We care more for the resting place of our dead than the workplace of our neighbor, I suppose.[/i][/color] For once, perhaps, she need not have worried. The lantern was exactly what it appeared to be. The mine continued, and it had clearly been in use [i]very[/i] recently. Eventually, after about two minutes of walking, she reached a point where the tracks diverged. To the left, they seemed to continue downhill down a narrow and much-buttressed pathway. To the right, they leveled off and the path seemed to widen. There was a large wrought iron gate in the way. [color=slateblue][i]Not so abandoned, it would seem. But that only makes it worse,[/i][/color] she thought as she took the lantern and inspected the tracks. Upon reaching the fork, she considered carefully. [color=slateblue][i]One for raw material, one for finished product,[/i][/color] she theorized. [color=slateblue][i]But the narrower path might also mean fewer hostiles.[/i][/color] As her eyes flicked between the two, her instincts told her that the path behind the gate held both all the answers and all the danger. Except, perhaps, being hit by a mine cart. [color=slateblue][i]...We found the bodies of the dead men. What am I even doing here?[/i][/color] She sighed. Going further would mean getting involved, more than she wanted to. On the other hand, going back would mean contending with a skuggvar, and there would be no guarantee she'd get away with her trespassing scot free, either. [color=slateblue][i]Humorous as always, Vyshta.[/i][/color] With a grim nod, she began attempting to pick the lock. Just because she couldn't sense around her with the Gift didn't mean using it wouldn't give her position away to someone else, after all. Xiuyang did not necessarily fear the prospect of encountering her 'fellow countrymen.' The Revidian was used to talking her way out of just about any situation, and where fighting her way out was concerned, nothing could be worse than the Forge. What worried her was the prospect of them shooting first before asking questions, before a mage that could not sense a draw could react. She was not good with magnetic, and that skuggvar looked like it'd had a bad time. [color=slateblue][i]What am I looking for, really? What do I hope to accomplish?[/i][/color] Her mind continued to ask difficult questions that she didn't quite have answers for. [color=slateblue][i]Enough. Shune guide my steps. Eshiran spare me. Dami help me to be a fair judge.[/i][/color] Xiuyang turned her racing mind to the mantra of prayer as she walked forward. Half of infiltration was an act, so she carried herself as someone who was supposed to be there. She was, after a fashion, invited to be here by both parties to this smuggling operation, after all. Looking around, she noticed that her eyes perceived more than a normal human's eyesight would allow, despite the darkness. Even this was a reminder that she was... well, no longer a normal woman. It reminded her of the mask in her pocket, which she had yet to wear even once, despite knowing it held great power. It was, after all, made from the remains of that [i]thing[/i]. It had been a while. If she had been ashamed of what she'd become at that time—even if a little anxiety remained—she had accepted it now. Xiuyang decided that now was the time to wear it. She proceeded, hoping that her nerves were simply the result of her enhanced senses, but keeping an eye on the shadows nevertheless. The mask slipped onto her face with a certain degree of discomfort but, on some level, it also... protected her. She slipped soundlessly along, surrounded by great stacks of crates, until she came to a wooden room built into an alcove in one of the walls. The door seemed to be quite securely locked - it was iron-framed and barred, and the wall planks were thick. She still had not quite found the end of the large chamber, but it seemed emptier, now. The mystery crates were fewer, and there were a large number of carts present where the main track reached a turntable and divided into four branches. She could not yet sense anyone else, but she hadn't done so very much actual [i]investigating[/i] either, for what it was worth. Xiuyang peeked into the wooden alcove. If she were to imagine an enemy lying in wait to ambush her, this seemed like the most favorable spot. She was loath to lend her now rather precious eyes to the task of investigating the crates instead of searching for watchmen, but she did eventually have to decide that her nerves were getting in the way of the investigation. Surely, someone would be along eventually if she tarried too long. So, she began taking a closer look at the crates, and any carts that didn't appear empty. In the event, there seemed not to be any motion from inside of the alcove and its makeshift office. There was no sound either, except for... There [i]was[/i]. It was a faint hum, not unlike that which she had heard pervasively at Halge Larchelon. There was something magnetically-powered in there! But then there were the crates and carts as well. Some of the latter were loaded with crates, seemingly ready to be shipped out somewhere. Of the former... none appeared open, at first, but that was until she noticed one stack of four, close to a cart, that sat a bit unevenly. The second one from the bottom seemed to have been damaged. Its lid was slightly ajar, only the weight of the two on top of it seeming to be holding it in place. It was better than breaking one open and making even more noise. Deciding to leave the locked door—which was probably barred for safety as much as security—she set her lantern on the floor and began to move the crates so that she could access the damaged one. [color=slateblue][i]So, this is a blitzwerfer.[/i][/color] Admittedly, Xiuyang found herself admiring the craftsmanship in spite of herself and her situation, and lamenting that it was a bit too bulky to take with her—especially now that she was in a hurry. While she had closed the hatch behind her to put just one obstacle between her and the skuggvar, the carpet would still be out of place, and the lock picked. They would know someone was here. Without waiting for an answer to her casual inquiry as to whether or not Marci thought she could take them, she replaced the crates just as they were, picked up her lantern, and turned back. A plan was hatching in her mind. Leaving the wrought iron gate ajar and its lock opened and hanging loosely, she would let the two men waste their time trying to figure out where in that mess of crates, carts and tunnels she was hiding, driving themselves mad wondering if one of their own had simply been a fool and left the gate unlocked—while she investigated the other path. Iolanda and Isacco were chatting as they headed down the shaft, just chattering away as they had since childhood: her, the big sister, and him, the precocious younger brother. With both of their parents in the Navy, they had spent many hours with each other at their grandparents' place in the foothills outside of Montericci, such that one often finished the other's sentences or instinctively helped the other with some task through unspoken contract. Those who did not know them assumed that they were twins, though she was some five years older and on her way to being a spinster at the age of twenty-six. [b]"But, dear brother,"[/b] she opined, with a bounce in her step, [b]"this is Kerremand and there are very many dragons."[/b] Her lantern swung back and forth jauntily. She seemed not the least bit afraid, though she probably should've been. [b]"Most are toads, and you won't scare me, Iola."[/b] He pursed his lips in mock unamusement as they reached the bottom. [b]"Well, [i]I'm[/i] scared,"[/b] she admitted. [b]"No Gift is..."[/b] The tall rangy woman shuddered and slipped in behind her burly brother. [b]"Psh. You're no mage anyway,"[/b] he retorted. [b]"And you [i]are[/i]?"[/b] She waves dismissively. [b]"We have enough to sense."[/b] Isacco did not respond, however, and she tilted her head quizzically. He pointed in the direction of the depot. [b]"Did we leave it like that?"[/b] She pursed her lips and thought. [b]"There's no 'we' in this one, Isac."[/b] [b]"I'm serious. I remember locking it. Has anyone else been here?"[/b] She shook her head, swinging the lantern about with growing anxiety. She swallowed. [b]"You need to go investigate."[/b] [b]"[i]We[/i] need to,"[/b] He rejoined, [b]"Or would you rather be alone?"[/b] [b]"Fair."[/b] She cleared her throat and then, first in Revidian, and then in Avincian, called out. [b]"Anyone there? It's Iolanda and Isacco! It's our shift! ...hello?"[/b] An arrival, by chance, between shifts—could she have been so lucky? Xiuyang paid their banter little mind beyond the fact that they'd noticed the unlocked gate as she intended while descending down the narrower tunnel she'd passed up before. She would offer no response to their call. She'd just taken another careful step when something the girl had said caught up to her. "No Gift is..." what? As in no amount of Gift could offer protection from those dragons she was so worried about? Or as in more than sensing was suppressed here? If she was unable to use the Gift, it might be better to take what may be her only opportunity to escape. Xiuyang attempted to create a small sonic bubble around her free hand and rub her fingers together near her ear, just to see if she could. Just as she began to try drawing from the dust and moisture in the air, another worry welled up inside. [color=slateblue][/color] The narrower of the two routes led, as expected, deeper into a mine. There was a branch running off perpendicular to it after about fifty yards. Otherwise, the track continued into the depths of the rock face. When Xiuyang cast about, ever alert and observant, there were clear signs of phased construction and an earlier tunnel collapse. If she could not [i]feel[/i] the magnetism with her Gift, the static electricity that permeated the air was everywhere, and it was... warmer than she supposed a mine shaft ought to have been. The tips of her hair seemed to want to float just above her head, and an absent brush against a filthy mine cart sent a shock through her body that caused actual significant pain, if only momentarily. Then, came the voices from up the tunnel, and silence from Marceline, who had to just be occupied with something else, right? There were only so many simultaneous tasks a person could manage. The words of one Iolanda stuck in Xiuyang's head, however, and rested high and uneasy atop her stomach. Perhaps that was why she felt compelled to run her experiment. No dice. She was even more completely cut off from the Gift here as she had been in the Abyssal Forge. She walked just a bit further, anxiety building, and tried a second time, only to be met with a second failure, but there was... no, there had definitely been a hint of something. She had definitely [i]felt[/i] the sound dampened. It was at that moment, as she was considering, that she heard a distinct skittering of rocks somewhere up ahead, echoing unmistakably up the darkened tunnel. A partial success, perhaps, but not a promising one. It could have been her proximity to the room with the hum back in the depot—that was what her experience in the Forge led her to believe. The further she descended from it, the more its effect might wear off. On the other hand, she could douse her lantern now and retreat to the surface easily while the Revidians searched the depot. So long as she continued to ascend, she'd know she was on the right track. If she proceeded any further, she lost her only means of preventing herself from getting lost, and her only reliable chance to make an exit. As these thoughts crowded her mind as if trying to create a fog, the sound of disturbed rocks pierced through. Instinctively, she placed her lantern on the ground and retreated backwards into the dark tunnel from where she'd come, and waited. It could be a person. It might be a predator. It may have also been nothing at all. [color=slateblue][i]This is why I hate caves,[/i][/color] Xiuyang decided as she held her ground for a moment, eyes focused on the darkness, as if by doing so she could extract more information from it. Then, all at once, Marceline was back! [color=598527][/color] It was not good news, but it was not all bad either. That meant that the disruption must've lessened up ahead. Xiuyang had gotten some sense of the place: it was warmer than it should've been, it seemed to be moving west, if she hadn't lost her bearings, and the air was positively [i]charged[/i]with static electricity. There was, further, a faint unpleasant smell that she could not quite place. Wait. She thought again. Sulfur. It was sulfur. But there was someone up ahead. Dimly, she could make out what seemed to be... [i]Was[/i] it? Dark magic. That was what it felt like. It was rare and distinct enough that she could usually pick it out. Someone or something was using dark magic. The voice was a whisper. [color=#FF4500]"Someone..."[/color] She missed the next bit. [color=#FF4500]"Shouldn't be... like this."[/color] Another voice: deep and indistinct. She could not decipher its words, but she caught some of the response: [color=#FF4500]"...command, Freiherr."[/color] Those same steps began moving towards her. Xiuyang had enough experience with dark magic to recognize it, and also to fear and respect it. She still had nightmares of helplessly drifting in the VOID during the Trials—still remembered how powerless she felt as she watched Dorothea toy with the dead. While she had gained RAS, experience, and courage, her ability to combat this magic had truly not changed much. A little voice told her she was still a coward, that her nature had not changed at all. What stood before her now was demonic. She should kill it now and prove that she had become something. She ignored the voice. The smell of sulfur only added to the long list of potential dangers that may be in front of her. Above all, however, she had clearly heard two distinct voices, despite Marci seemingly only detecting one. If he could hide one from Marci, the dark mage could be concealing any number of unseen foes. The battle lines of where the Gift could or could not be used were invisible, and the source of the disruption was still unclear. She had made a miscalculation. The Revidians were not sloppy. They were confident. It didn't matter if they were found out. They had their heels quite dug into this place, and the dispatch of Ersand'Enise's best and brightest was well warranted. [color=slateblue][/color] she replied, without explanation. She slunk back further into the darkness—slowly at first, so as not to make a sound more than what was necessary—into the dead zone where, at least if she faced an enemy without the Gift, she had one card to play that no human could possibly predict. She did not want to use it. Marci was watching. But if she did need to, she would bolt on four legs. From Marceline came... nothing. It was unlikely that she did not care, so she had to have been distracted by something. Just [i]what[/i] that was lay beyond Xiuyang's scope. Now, the voice drew nearer. [color=#FF4500]"Freiherr, there's a light!"[/color] It was female and raspy and had a quality to it that seemed distinctly inhuman. Xiuyang was not silent. She was, to her own senses, obnoxiously loud in her attempt to flee, but she was quick, at least. It was more or less a matter of retracing her steps. Then, after a moment, in the distance, she spotted the small locus of light that was her lantern moving. There was a figure holding it, but it was difficult to make out unless she got closer. [color=#FF4500]"Fritz? Fritz, should I go after her?"[/color] That, or escape. [color=slateblue][/color] Xiuyang pinched out the names quickly. She was here to investigate, not go in guns blazing when she had no guns. She had also been spotted, somehow, since her pursuer knew her to be female. She seemed inhuman, too, and perhaps that was why. Her opponents had every advantage. It was time to leave. Xiuyang didn't wait for Fritz to offer an answer. She quickened her pace, retreating from the light, unraveled the inferno blanket wrapped around her shoulders and tied it around her waist. Her back and shoulders... unfolded, and she tore a path up the mine tracks with inhuman speed, blindly rushing into the darkness ahead. She only had to ensure that she was going uphill the whole way, and she would find the exit. It took a moment, but the tethered replied this time. [color=598527][/color] Whether or not Xiuyang actually had the time and wherewithal to respond was a matter up for debate, as she tore her way out of there. By the time that she was slowing down again, she was at the narrow passage into the shed and her magic had been present, gone, and was now hazily returning. Pushing open the door, she found it cold and windy outside. Great flowing rivers of heavy, anvil-shaped clouds hung low overhead, bellies crackling with barely-restrained violence. The brief thaw had come to an end as warm and cold fronts collided. She also remained in the middle of a remote area, with Oraff now giving way to Eshiran. Was what she had learned worth it? The cold was a shock, and she had the inferno blanket back where it was in short order. She was an uncomfortable blend of freezing and sweaty, but she had names and the location of their base of operations, as well as some of its contents, though it surely wasn't everything. [color=slateblue][/color] she repeated. [color=slateblue][/color] she pinched furiously as she fled on foot in the direction she'd arrived from, giving the marsh she'd turned into a pond earlier a wide berth. [color=598527][/color] came the reply. [color=598527][/color] Then, a pause. [color=598527][/color] There was a pause. It took a moment for Xiuyang to realize why Marci had thanked her twice. [color=slateblue][i]Ah. Without thinking, I...[/i][/color] She shook it off, both mentally and physically. Dark magic, an inhuman-seeming woman, and the smell of sulfur, associated with demons. She had told all on instinct. It wasn't her fault. That was what she told herself as she continued to run, basking in the return of her Gift. Just before reaching the edge of the woods, she would remove her mask. Someone involved had seen it, and she didn't want to scare the locals. The mask [i]was[/i] a little eerie-looking. She didn't question Marci's choice, or if she did, at least not openly. [color=slateblue][/color] [color=598527][/color] came the reply, for such was the tethered's fluency in pinch language that she could speak in idioms. [color=598527][/color] There was a brief pause. [color=598527][/color] After that, came a second pause. [color=598527][/color] [color=slateblue][/color] Xiuyang replied to her assessment, once again breaking out into a sprint, assisted by the Gift and her kinetic boots. [color=slateblue][/color] Finally, she removed her left hand from her wrist and dedicated every muscle to running as fast as she could, just as Sectoxomactex had taught her, just as she had practiced regularly whenever she had found the time—never as often as she may have liked, but often enough not to stumble on uneven dirt trails, or to forget to breathe. In, out, in, out, like a mantra. She flew in the opposite direction she had walked leisurely, her mind clear and focused on the mission. The pleasant scenery now billowed in the threatening winds. If Vyshta did not favor Lindenholdt today, she imagined these conditions could even become deadly. [color=598527][/color] came a message from Marceline. [color=598527][/color] The message cut off. [color=598527][/color] With that final, cryptic message, Xiuyang was on her own. The increasingly foreboding scenery flashed by and she hurtled through the boggy land, and then open fields, finally reaching the small dirt road that followed the winding east bank of the River Althern. Birds hunkered in their nests, distant windows were shuttered, and tree branches swayed violently in the frigid wind. Those great anvil shaped clouds agglomerated directly overhead, bellies crackling with thunder that reverberated across the open land. It was Eshiran's wrath made manifest. Then, just as the first flakes of snow howled through the roadside brush, Xiuyang found them: Marceline's distinctive tracks, where they had met with mud an hour or two earlier. According to her friend, she need only follow those, but she was very much alone out here and the weather was getting ugly... [i]fast[/i]. Xiuyang laughed at the very Marci-like comment. She might have expected to see some scavenging birds circling overhead, but the avian pestilence proved smarter than the human who decided to go out for a stroll on a day like this. Her only clue was the tracks in the mud. She followed them, hardly expecting to meet any threats given the state of the weather. Was she really going to drag two old defrosted corpses all the way back to town in a situation like this, though? After all, not anyone would just open their doors to some foreigner for shelter, especially not one with a dead man on each shoulder. [color=slateblue][i]No, I just have to drag one 500 meters to the other. If the weather turns deadly, I'll just have to shelter in place,[/i][/color] she decided. As she turned toward the riverbank, she braced herself for an awful sight. Ernst Zimmerman lay there: his flesh rotted and ice-encrusted, picked at by all manner of scavengers, but the distinctive haureenium ring he has always worn was still on his finger, and most of his clothes were still intact. Xiuyang had, unfortunately, seen more than her share of dead people in her young life, but this was a particularly ghastly sight, for some reason. Weber, she remembered, was supposed to be about half a kilometer north and downstream. She had already considered moving the bodies so that they were near each other, but took a moment to poke around. There was nothing to be gained from studying positioning, since the cadaver had washed down a river anyhow, but she could at least look for the telltale signs of a struggle and likely cause of death. He hadn't drowned while conscious, or there would've been evidence of an attempt to break through and clamber up onto the ice. In fact, there seemed to be no sighs of a physical struggle. That did not mean, however, that there were no injuries. There were strange branching markings along the skin and, on the body's chest, weird pit-like.... were those [i]burns[/i]? Finally, as she went to look at Ernst's remaining eye (for the other had been taken by birds), she noticed a foamy reddish substance frozen in the nostrils. The investigation did not last very much longer, however, for she then picked up something else: the clatter of a wagon's wheels coming rapidly from the north. Xiuyang exhaled. Waterlogged cadavers were always worse. [color=slateblue]"It's not what I wanted to see, but it is what I needed,"[/color] she remarked as she observed what she believed were the telltale signs of death by blitzwerfer. [color=slateblue]"Shit."[/color] As she heard the wagon approach, she retrieved a pair of tweezers from her med kit and extracted a sample of the unknown substance from the man's nose for safekeeping. Then, she dragged the body to the edge of the dirt path and began flagging down the wagon. What else was she to do—hide, as though she had done the deed herself? It was better this way. Both men could get proper burials. She already had what she needed. It was a medium-sized covered wagon pulled by a single great shaggy horse of Eskandish breeding. The woman who hunkered by the reins, head turning this way and that anxiously as she coaxed some speed out of the slow-moving vehicle was, most likely, an itinerant merchant. There was a distinct nervousness to her bearing and she seemed disinclined to stop. In fact, after slowing only briefly and slightly, she began to pick up speed as she started her closest approach. Xiuyang's eyes flicked to the dead man at her feet, still only semi-hidden by the foliage. [color=slateblue]"Fair enough,"[/color] she remarked as the woman fled. Xiuyang probably would have done the same, cynical as she was. Perhaps it was a case of sour grapes, but she began to doubt her ability to talk to a local in any event. She'd really hoped the wagon had been someone with authority, who spoke Avincian. Once the wagon had passed, she began to exercise her Gift on the earth, digging a hole to preserve the body. [color=slateblue]"This will not be your final resting place, so don't get mad and haunt me when I dig you up later, alright?"[/color] After binding a cloth to cover the man using some reeds, she buried him and took off running to the north, where the wagon had been fleeing from. Her desire to secure both bodies compelled her to imagine a scenario where she could carry a body half a kilometer, but given time to consider it, she could not be expected to do that. She couldn't be sure if Edith was coming in this weather, so this was her next best option. She breathed in, out, in, out. Trying to estimate by feeling, she ran what she thought was a little less than half of her usual route, which would be close to half a kilometer. Then she began to sense around, hoping to find it. [color=slateblue][/color] she tried. The wagon passed, its rear gate partially open and held half-closed by some rope. Xiuyang made quick work of covering the body before heading north. She was, in fact, starting to scan only three minutes after leaving the late Herr Zimmerman behind. Her first attempt to be noticed by Marceline was a miss - the tethered wasn't currently scanning - and the second failed too, as she continued to jog into the teeth of a budding thundersnow. Third time lucky. [color=598527][/color] It took the Kerreman about half a minute before she was ready to respond, during which time, she learned just what it was like outside. [color=598527][/color] There was a momentary pause. [color=598527][/color] At first, Xiuyang felt a sudden panic, thinking the man she'd buried had just vanished—dark magic on the brain, she supposed. The realization that the wagon held the other body was only half as unexpected as it should have been. Someone—who was not Edith—had been sent to recover the bodies, and that person had avoided Xiuyang on sight alone. [color=slateblue][/color] She decided to say nothing of how the person in the wagon might have seen her with the body, and that she might have fled because of that. Xiuyang began to wonder if the person in the wagon was more afraid of being caught with one herself. She turned around and ran, faster now, in the opposite direction. She wasn't sure if she was in pursuit of the wagon, or simply trying to get back to civilization. She only knew she had to get [i]somewhere[/i] fast. [color=slateblue][/color] [color=598527][/color] Whatever humorous - or not - response that might've come next, it came within the context of Xiuyang sprinting after a wagon in the midst of a thundersnow. Mr. Secto would've been proud. The wagon hove into her sensing range after a few minutes and, then, into intermittent audiovisual range a good deal later, for such were the conditions now. The inferno blanket, almost an afterthought when it had come into her possession, was now - quite possibly [i]literally[/i] - a lifesaver. Xiuyang was able to reach the back of the wagon and there was, indeed something covered with a thick burlap sheet that could only be a cadaver inside of it. A few more kinetically-enhanced steps would carry her to the front, where the driver was. The question became: which approach to take? Regardless if her reasons were innocent or not, the driver was afraid of her, and startling her would do neither of them any good. The only good outcomes in this situation required the driver to keep moving. If they were not on the same side, they were, for better or worse, in this shit together. Opting not to announce herself, she used the Gift to hurl herself forward and grab on to the partly opened gate, under the cover of a strategic sonic bubble—not that the driver was likely to hear her over the increasingly loud storm, in any case. Holding on to the top of the gates, using the Gift to loosen the rope a little, she attempted to squeeze through the gap without letting the gate open far enough to risk losing its cargo, or close around her while she was wedged in it. If she was freezing, her blanket worn as a shawl kept her warm enough to stay focused. It helped that her arm muscles were exerting themselves to the point they felt like they were on fire, and her legs weren't much better off. After a few hair-raising moments, Xiuyang found herself in the back of the wagon, a little bit of rocking aside. It had not been enough - or so she believed, for the woman up front to have noticed, not with all of the other bumps on the road. Inside lay the body of Florian Weber, in a condition similar to that of his workmate. No signs of struggle, but the same branching burns, pitted scars, and traces of reddish foam in the nose. It was almost as if he had died while unconscious or... conscious but not struggling? A willing sacrifice? In any case, the wagon continued to bump and clatter rapidly down the road, and it was now entering the outskirts of Lindenholdt. Its driver glanced around nervously and then, after a particularly large bump, right back through the screen that separated the rear from the driver's perch. [color=slateblue]"Eyes on the road, [i]belladonna,[/i]"[/color] Xiuyang offered with an innocent smile and a handwave with finger-wiggles, as if she had been picked up and been sitting quietly there the entire time.[/color] [color=slateblue]"Poor day for a stroll, innit?"[/color][/hider]